A Perfect Indian
by Mishka Germash
Summary: [Hannibal Rising] There was another lovely redhead far before Clarice Starling...her name was Lillian. Finished.
1. Chapter 1: The Fetish

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Hannibal Lecter or any other things pertaining to the series. So no, I can't sell you a young Hannibal Lecter or retrieve any underwear to trade with you! Sorry! I tried to keep this along the lines of the history of Hannibal as best as I could. If it isn't perfect, then...what can I say, but it's fun to pretend! This story will delve into some sides of Hannibal not usually shown in books or movies. I myself am a psychology student and find the character particularly intriguing, so I decided to expand on him. Woohoo! Goody for you, then! 

I know some want Hannibal to stay a psychopathic, monstrous, non-feeling, non-reactionary monster...but, c'mon. I think there's more there than that! So here is my first Hannibal story. Many more to come. The ideas keep hitting me! ...please, make them stop, because it's starting to hurt.

Anyway! Enjoy the story and please review!!!

- Mishka

**Chapter 1:  
"The Fetish"**

The heels of her pumps clicked loudly in the nearly empty train station. The steam pricked her skin and the smell of raw sewage wafted at her nose. The homeless men chattered to themselves in a barrage of slang and mumbled insanities, made even more unclear by their thick cockney accents.

"Hey, hold the door!" She shouted loudly. Her American accented alto echoed off the walls, making her ears ring as it broke the white noise she was now used to. She had lived in London for approximately a year now and had quickly become used to her surroundings. Everything had become routine and boring, but it was her routine and she knew what was going to happen and when. Sometimes boring was comforting.

She rushed between the doors of the train, held open by an elderly man in a bowler hat. She nodded her head at him as he smiled back, sweetly. She quickly took a seat as the train lurched forward in an awkward motion. She set her messenger bag on the floor and blew a long breath out of her chest, making her lips pucker and cheeks deflate.

She quickly grabbed her anatomy book out of her bag and flipped to page number 522. While she read the train began to rock, almost in a comforting movement. She could feel a pair of eyes burning through her. She glanced up to find a man of approximately 30 staring at her. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, bringing her pencil skirt down to conceal any piece of skin she could. He sneered at her.

"Hey…aren't you-?"

"No, I'm not." She interrupted his question, knowing what he was going to ask. She caught his eyes with a stare of her own, her piercing, blue eyes telling him where to go if he didn't shut his mouth real quick. To her chagrin, he was more amused than intimidated. He chuckled a disgusting laugh, his browned teeth showing while she could hear the phlegm rolling in his chest with each heave of laughter.

"Yes, you are! I would know those legs and your face anywhere. Don't remember your hair bein' that light, though. Hard to tell, usually the boys and me are just lookin' at your-"

Her face turned red with embarrassment mixed with anger. "Sir, I would advise you to please not speak to me in such a manner. Let alone the fact, you must have me mistaken for someone else. If you continue, I will be forced to either contact the police for sexual harassment or deal with you myself. Are we clear or are we clear?" Her southern accent drawled over each word with malice deep from her gut.

Her eyes were focused on her reflection in the mirror, but she could see his face contort into a scowl from the corner of her eye. She felt the train slide to a stop and couldn't bring herself to face the perverted man still scowling at her. Granted, he technically paid her bills with his slobbering perversions in which the images of her other half provided, but she still was bitter. She was very bitter. It's such a shame to be so bitter at twenty years of age. The train doors opened and she saw him stand. She continued to watch her reflection as the lighting changed with the opening of the doors and more fluorescent lighting filtered in, shining off of her bright red hair.

"Never figured you to be such a fuckin' cunt. You bloody whore." He sneered as he walked out of the train.

She glared at his back and memorized the outline of his worn, brown jacket as it walked away, between the train doors, and then up the stairs of the station. Her lip quivered and she could feel her eyes welling. Were they tears of rage or tears of sadness? She couldn't tell the difference anymore. One emotion was just the same as the other and all provoked the same reactions – either tears or violence.

She never figured that the little girl in the pictures she had of her and her parents – the same little girl in the tutu and the make-shift fairy wings her father had made out of fish netting and wire – would become such a bitter and angry woman. She was not as angry with herself as she was with the rest of the world.

She rose from her seat and slowly walked through the train doors. She grimaced as her tired feet fell back into an uncomfortable position in her shoes. She shifted her messenger bag on her shoulder and clutched her textbook against her chest. As she passed the people, she pushed harder on her chest. Almost wishing she could press hard enough to make her chest become less of a woman's. To crush the same breasts that she exposed only to the world of fetish photography and modeling. She almost wished she wasn't a woman.

But with pussy, came power and she knew that all too well. Power as it may seem, was disguised in grabs in the streets and companied with catcalls, incredulity, and double standards. The only man besides her father (whom had taught her to respect herself and show her equality to men in all things) who really fully respected her opinions and mind was her professor at university. Her studies were mainly focused in the study of the criminal mind, but her recent classes for this semester included anatomy.

She was the only woman in her class, and the youngest. She had graduated from high school in America at the age of sixteen and left for London during the age of teenage rebellion. Leather jackets and pedal pushers were all the rage back home. Teenagers necked in the back of cars at the local drive-ins that played "Rebel Without A Cause". But here in post-war Europe, it seemed everything had stayed the same. Half-demolished buildings still stood on street corners. Homeless men and women still begged for food for their children and told horror stories of war.

She came from a stable home with loving parents and two older bothers that would die for her. Your standard home with a dog and a cat. Her father owned a farm down in Mississippi and her mother was a local school nurse. Her brothers had married and left home, while taking over some of the land on the farm. She was the only one who had decided to go to college. Her father was proud, but her mother was less than thrilled.

Lillian had never been one for the girly things always dressing in her brothers' clothes, and sometimes the occasional tutu or church dress. But mostly she was a nice mix of tomboy and lady. She remembered sneaking off with her brothers to the movies at night to watch Wolfman and Dracula, while her brothers held hands with their current squeezes and made awkward fumbles with buttons. But she never did pay attention to that. No. She was always focused on the movies. Her favorite had always been Dracula. The thought of such a refined, wealthy man with such dark fantasies and fetishes had fascinated her.

She supposed that's what made her fascinated with criminals. She was only eleven when the body of Elizabeth Short was discovered. Her mother had tried to block those things out, but Lillian always somehow managed to find out about them. She remembered the newspapers when she would run to the local drug store to buy bubble gum. She remembered the beautiful face and lovely dark hair of Elizabeth Short. It was kind of twisted, you see. And it made Lillian ponder the depth and darkness of the human psyche.  
Despite the soft delicacy of Lillian, she had a side that only the scum knew of. No real, quality men would look at fetish photography in those magazines. Only the perverted, shaky hands would fumble to the back of the display case for those magazines. Those were the people that knew. Part of her was ashamed of her secret life, but the other part was defensive. The only jobs available to women these days were secretarial. Not that she couldn't do that, but the height of sexual harassment and rape was a lot higher than the media would have mothers and fathers to believe. No, she was not about to have to sit through grueling hours of pretending to be sweet and charming to someone who only had disgusting thoughts in his mind while he drove home to go fuck his wife, as his children slept unknowingly in the next room.

No. This paid the bills and made more money than any of that could. Besides, there was no sexual harassment on the job sites. Benjamin, the photographer, was definitely not interested. His lover, Johannes, was far more appealling to him than any woman ever could be. The photographer and the stylist - what a pair they were! To see them together, despite any pre-conceived notions, made one smile and question one's own happiness and honesty to oneself.

Her thoughts were interrupted as the bright lights of university came into her eyesight. Her feet moved a little faster, a little peppier, with a little more a skip. Her mouth curved into a smile. This was her realm. This was the real her. No matter how much she tried to deny her innocence and her sweetness with her realism, it all came down to her being an intelligent, fun-loving, kind-hearted woman. She loved music, good food, and laughter. She did not love the stockings or garter gelts, the black wig, nor the corsets or chains. There was no emotional attachment to them. They were just pieces of someone who was not the true Lillian. They are just pieces of financial stability and a guarantee at finishing college and not having to go back home.

The schoolgirl in her ran up the stone steps to the large building, between the columns and through the heavy doors being held by a young student. She breathed a thank you and ran towards the elevator, knowing her slow walk had made her late to her anatomy class. She did not want to miss this. There would be a guest speaker this evening and from what she had read from his books and articles from medical magazines, she had been anticipating this for a month.

She knew he was from Maryland and was currently at Johns Hopkins University. From his manuscripts, she would have assumed he was around the age of forty. She had always imagined him with graying hair, neatly trimmed, sipping wine and dressed in the best of business suits, cloaked in the classic white jacket.

She brushed her fingers through her falling finger waves as she pushed her way through a crowd of young, giggling girls and towards her classroom. She glanced back at the girls who were whispering and glancing towards the exact classroom she was walking into. She was so intent on studying the young, giggling girls that she didn't see the person she was about to collide into.

The impact was soft, but startled her. Her heart jumped into her throat and she almost fell backwards. Pulling her out of her thoughts was like waking a sleepwalker. The physical reactions of being brought out of her mind sometimes brought on bruises when she would jump quickly and sometimes bonk her head or hit her leg on a chair. But this time a hand steadied her as her books tumbled to the floor.

"Oh!" She exclaimed, watching her textbooks and notes fall to the ground. A second hand accompanied the first and gripped her waist to assure she was not going to tumble down onto the floor. She flipped her head up quickly, her hair slinging back over her shoulder and passing under his nose. The obvious scent of vanilla filled his nostrils and he inhaled on instinct.

Her blue eyes met his green ones. She sucked in a breath as she studied the face of the body she had collided with. Now she knew what all the giggling was about. His eyes pierced hers as they studied the other. She stared at his eyes, trying to figure out which color was more prominent – the blue or the green. She found her voice in the midst of her embarrassment and quickly removed her hands from his shoulders to stoop down and begin gathering her books.

"I'm so terribly sorry. I'm so embarrassed. Sometimes I just get distracted, you know, and don't watch where I'm going…" She rambled and concentrated on getting her things together so she could quickly reserve a seat in the classroom. She felt the young man stoop down beside her and pick up a few of her books. His hand rested on her criminal psychology textbook and she glanced at him studying the cover. She looked at him and realized she did not recognize him from any of her classes.

'He must be visiting just for the lecture' she thought to herself. She continued to study his face. His well-chiseled jawbone and his full lips pouted as he skimmed his eyes over the book. She chewed on her bottom lip and looked away quickly when his eyes met hers. The left side of his mouth turned up in a small smile as he handed her the textbook and they both stood up.

"You should be more careful, m'lady." He stated with a smirk. She glanced up and smiled, for it was not a malicious smirk, but more one of amusement.

"I was just distracted. But thank you for saving me from a few bruises…and also for helping me with my books." She said.

"You're very welcome." He smiled a genuine smile. She liked his smile.

"Well, I'd best be getting a seat before all the good ones are taken. Thank you again." She turned her back and hurried into the classroom to avoid any sort of awkward giggling or blushing moment that might come out of her childish moment back there that was so gruesomely displayed.

She took a seat in the third row and settled herself with a notebook and pen in front of her. She removed her sweater and began scribbling nonsense on the blank paper. Her mind went back to the young man at the door and her pen stopped all movement. Her mouth twisted into a face of contemplation as she tried to place his accent. It seemed almost faded with time. He couldn't have been older than 25, which led her to believe he was most likely a student from another local university.

Her head jerked up from her notebook as her professor clapped his hands together.

"Everyone, everyone! I'd like to have your attention please!" The loud voices settled down as her professor smiled. "Good evening! Thank you all for coming. You have made an excellent choice towards your advancement in understanding the human body by coming here for this lecture. I'd like you to welcome, all the way from John Hopkins University, Dr. Hannibal Lecter!"


	2. Chapter 2: The Lecture

**Chapter 2:  
"The Lecture"**

"Hello everyone and thank you for allowing me to speak to you." She watched as the young man sauntered up behind the podium. His slender fingers wrapped around the sides of the wooden podium and she saw him look up - directly at her. She quickly made sure her mouth was not hanging open, to avoid looking much like a cod fish. His eyes left her face and not only was she relieved, but almost a little disappointed.

Her thoughts went a mile a minute and she tried to slow them down, but they just kept going. Why did she not know he was so young? How can such a youth be so intelligent? Why did she not realize he was the infamous doctor? Why had he not introduced himself? How old was he really? Where was he from?

And why, oh why, did he have to be so damned beautiful?

The blush crept up her chest, to her neck, and into her face. She ducked her head down to collect herself and avoid being looked at again. She breathed in and out slowly and looked back up to try to continue listening to the lecture. But every word seemed to just run into the other and she found it even harder to concentrate when she looked at him, so she resorted back to staring at her notebook and pretending to take notes. She glanced around and her eyes fell on her flat mate, Lara. Good! She would just copy notes from her.

Lara looked up from across the classroom and gave a smile. Lillian smiled back and gave a small wave, which Lara returned. From beside Lara, Lara's boyfriend Charlie gave a wave and a wink. Lillian's smile faltered some, but she still smiled back at him. Her head turned and went back to her notebook and she scribbled the word "LIAR" in all capitals. Smart, good-looking, slimy Charlie. Oh yes, he was a catch. And she had caught him once before.

She remembered first arriving at university, fresh off of the airplane, bags still in hand when he offered to carry them for her to her flat on the school's property. Yes, he was charming and polite. He was every parents dream. He had even been her's at one point. They had dated for a while. He was her first real boyfriend, besides Bobby James when she was twelve, of course. But he didn't count. He didn't count, because Charlie was her first real adult relationship. With real dates and real kisses. They had dated for the first three months of her freshman year of college. Just long enough for him to take her virginity and then leave her for the next new girl. Lillian had found them in his bed when she came to surprise him with a cake for his birthday. The caked looked good all over his ugly face.

She shook the memories out of her head. Maybe he had changed. It had been a year and some people can change quickly. Once Lara came to school, she was the new fresh meat and Charlie had set his eyes on his prize. Charlie and Lillian had to meet face to face for the first time in nine months since the break up and it was more than difficult, especially considering the delicate circumstances. Lillian had not muttered a bad thing to Lara about Charlie and Charlie had never mentioned to Lara about he and Lillian. It was a silent understanding that the past was the past and it needed to stay there. Charlie had once tried to talk to Lillian about it when Lara had run to the store one night, but Lillian played the lady scorned and had locked herself in her room and played her Etta James records over and over, drowning out whatever he was trying to say.

Since then, they hadn't said more than a "hello". She regretted it had been him she had slept with, but she figured it was far better than any boy back home.

She was knocked out of her reverie by a hand on her shoulder. Lillian glanced up and saw Lara by her side. The noises of people hopping out of chairs and grabbing books and bags, yelling which pub they were going to, and laughing finally hit her. The lecture was over and she had missed every moment of it. Just because of stupid memories of stupid Charlie.

"Hey, love! You look exhausted. Long night?" Lara's pretty songbird voice crept over everyone else's.

"Yeah. Luckily I got my work done before coming here tonight, so I can go in and fall asleep for once. And also, let me copy your notes...I totally spaced out." Lillian yawned the last part and put her sweater back on. Lara pouted her sympathies and stroked Lillian's hair.

"Poor girl! Of course you can! Here!" Lara handed her notebook to Lillian. "Charlie and I are going to grab something to eat at Grenda's...you want to come along?"

Lillian felt her stomach rumble in response to the question. Despite feeling the need to avoid Charlie, due to the fact that it might make her so sick that she would just vomit back the food she had just eaten, she reluctantly agreed because her body told her so. She saw Charlie in the corner speaking to some girl she didn't recognize and her stomach dropped. She knew it was happening. And happening right under Lara's nose.

"Ok, well, good. We'll see you there in a bit." Lara bobbed her head and headed towards Charlie. "Oi! Charlie! Lil's comin' with us to Grenda's for a bite!"

Charlie gave Lillian a grin and she gulped. She felt his eyes follow down her body to her legs and she thought she was going to be sick. She ignored his smile and bent down to gather her books and notebooks. She shoved them into her bag in somewhat of a violent manner. Slinging the bag over her shoulder, she began her way towards the door.

"Lillian Warner." She stopped in her tracks and turned to the voice of her smiling professor, standing there beside Dr. Lecter. She turned and headed back towards her teacher, ignoring the scrutiny of the doctor. It was making her nervous, but she could not detect whether it was a good nervous or the bad kind.

"Dr. Lecter, I would like you to meet one of my favorite students, Lillian Warner. She is very intelligent and eager to learn."

Lillian smiled humbly at her teacher as she turned to the voice of Dr. Lecter.

"Yes, we met earlier, but I hadn't the pleasure of catching your name." His hand reached out for hers and she put hers in his for a quick shake. She felt his soft fingertips caress the inside of her wrist and she repressed a shiver. His eyes held hers and she only hoped the flush was not coming back into her cheeks. He was a perfect gentleman, but there was still something so animalistic about him. She had never met someone who fascinated her this much. Perhaps it was just that she had fallen in love with his manuscripts, and to meet him now was almost embarassing. What was she to say? That she had many a night where she brought his writings to bed with her and fallen asleep with them still in her hand? She supposed he had been in her bed already, without even being aware of it.

"It's a pleasure, Doctor Lecter. I'm an admirer of your manuscripts." She said brightly. Maybe he would not be able to tell she was slightly unnerved by him. She was first to remove her hand from his soft grasp.

He nodded a thank you as two girls and a boy pushed past Lillian and proceeded to pummel the doctor with questions. She gave her professor a small wave and once again made her way to the door. This time she made it out and made her way towards Grenda's - the local pub and restaurant most frequented by the college kids. Her tummy rumbled again at the thought of some nice soup and bread. How very appetizing it sounded.


	3. Chapter 3: The Appetite

Chapter 3:  
"The Appetite"

He knew this lecture by heart. He had written and rewritten it so many times, it was like a prayer to him now. But the red head in the third row did not help his memory at all. He could still smell her shampoo. Almost taste it. Vanilla. His mind wandered to the feel of her waist in his hands and he realized how greatly he had neglected the male need for a woman's company. Not since...well, not since he had been forced to leave France. He had not yet found interest in any women that surrounded him.

His mind was dead set on his studies, his lectures, and his...work. His free time was not free, but was spent with his hobbies. He had pretty much kept to himself, and still attended the bland social occasions, only which he used to advance his access to further his career in medicine or to expand on his increasing list of recipes.

Hmmm, no, this would not do. He did not have time for a fascination or any obsession of any sort. It had nearly gotten him caught last time. But still his mind wandered to her eyes and her soft pink lips. He wondered what they felt like. His eyes fell onto her again. Her head was bent and she was writing in her notebook, but her pen was not making any real words. No. Mainly just scribbling or drawings, he could tell. He knew her mind was off into some other realm. He wondered what it was like in that realm.

Her legs crossed under the desk and he realized how very inviting the curve of her calf was.

No, this would not do.

He finished the lecture without default and was instantly distracted from his fascinations and wondering by Professor Langdon, which he was most thankful for. Thankful until the professor told him her name.

"Dr. Lecter, I would like you to meet one of my favorite students, Lillian Warner. She is very intelligent and eager to learn."

'Oh I bet she is' he thought to himself. He mentally chastised himself for such terrible thoughts upon first introduction of this woman. Young woman. Very young.

"Yes, we met earlier, but I hadn't the pleasure of catching your name."

He reached out his hand, begging for some sort of contact again. Her hand fit into his and her skin felt so soft under his fingertips. He could not help allowing his fingertips to caress the inside of her wrist and feel her pulse. How tempted he was to just have a taste of that skin. But oh, not in any sort of way that he had tasted that flight attendant. Such horrible customer service.

"It's a pleasure, Doctor Lecter. I'm an admirer of your manuscripts." Her smile lifted him, but brought him back down as she removed her hand from his. The cool air of the room rushed up against the warmth which her hand left. She was pushed aside by some eager students asking too many questions, and while she disappeared her scent and touch still lingered.

He would need a nice glass of wine and then to go back to his hotel room. He would be here one more day, but he had no interest of seeing any sights or entertaining himself with the night life. All he had wanted was to get this lecture over with, perhaps have a good meal or two, and get back to his studies. But now this - This fascination just filled his senses and overtook him faster than he would've expected.

It was not that she was outrageously beautiful - although, she was definitely gorgeous - there was just something in her aura and her presence that intrigued him and tempted him to open her up to him. To enter her mind as he would hope to eventually enter her body and to consume her fully. Yes, the old manly want of ownership of an untamed being. To cage it and watch it, bring it out to pet it and caress it, but put it back in it's cage before it tried to fly away.

There was no denying that he wanted her as his. He watched the rain fall down the window of the cab while he decided on a wine to order once he arrived at the restaurant. The cab came to a stop and he paid the driver, while he quickly made his way under the awning of the restaurant. He shook the rain off of his coat before walking through the glass doors and taking a seat in a booth in the corner. His wine was set in front of him, and as he took his first sip, a flash of red caught his eye and his smile returned. 


	4. Chapter 4: The Chastizing

**Author's Note:** Thank you for the reviews (all two of you. The rest of you can suck on it! Neener-neener)!!!! They were so sweet and reassured me that I was doing a good job. Here is Chapter 4. I keep re-watching the movie to grasp my inspiration and motivation again and you all need to WRITE WRITE WRITE! (Muahah, you know who you are, girl!). 

Enjoy and review!

-_Mishka_

* * *

**Chapter 4:  
"The Chastizing"**

He sat and watched as she took a seat at a small table with a man and a woman he recognized from the classroom earlier. He saw how her shoulders, which had been held in an almost uncomfortable and awkward position during class, had now returned to a relaxed state as she ordered her food. He saw her eyes scan the room and rest on him and he found himself feeling almost ashamed by being caught staring. How rude of him. But his boyish thoughts had gotten him caught like child with his hand in the cookie jar. He merely smiled a faint smile, which she returned immediately and then with a bite of her lip, she looked away.

Hannibal looked back down at his wine glass, his grin still perfectly in place. How childish of him to share little grins across the room. Not a come hither look or even a seductive pout, but a grin. But then, he had never really had a childhood and it seemed only natural that it sometimes come out in spurts. He glanced up again and watched her interact with her classmates. The young woman whom he also recognized from the class was doing most of the talking, as Lillian began to eat her meal. The male, however, simply sat and surveyed the surroundings. Hannibal did not like his eyes. No, they reminded him of the eyes of an owl. Angry and bursting with pride. He watched the exchange between the man and Lillian. He noticed Lillian never did look at him, even though the man sometimes looked at her with a look of...what was it? Almost a mix of anger and hunger.

Yes, hunger was the main emotion behind those glances. Hannibal should know. He'd looked at a woman like that before. But Hannibal did not trust this man as far as he could throw him.

Hannibal brought his wine glass to his lips and closed his eyes briefly to listen to the sounds of the restaurant. He filtered out the noise and the clinking of silverware to single in on the conversation at Lillian's table.

"So I was thinking we could go to the cinema tomorrow night and maybe catch a movie, you know. All three of us." Lara said.

"Oh, sorry, I have to work tomorrow. I'm not sure how long it will take, and I don't want to make ya'll wait up for me."

'Ya'll' she had said. Hmmm, southern. That was new, yet not unwanted and definitely not uninteresting. He found it almost endearing how she would sometimes drop her g's and her vowels would take on different undertones than they did here in Europe. He wondered where she worked. Perhaps he would stop by...no, that would look strange. He was here on business and would be leaving in a day. It was not the time to start something he could not finish.

"Come on now, Lil! Why don't we just come see you at work and bring you din-"

"NO!" Lillian's voice shrieked, making Hannibal open his eyes, his brow creased in interest. "No, no, it's alright. Just go on without me, we can go another time." Her smile was weak and he saw the man give her a look of disapproval. It was almost as if he looked down upon her. This was an interesting relationship.

"Excuse me, I need to use the restroom." Lillian scooted her seat back and he watched her hips sway with her skirt as she walked towards the rear of the restaurant.

"Would you like more wine?" Dr. Lecter shook himself back to see the waitress standing by his table.

"Oh, yes, thank you very much." He said as she poured him another glass. The red glistened as it hit the smooth curves of the glass and it reminded him of blood. He missed that sweet metallic taste on his tongue.

It had been a while since he had finished his tyrade of revenge and he had since only killed a few select people. Mostly rude people who were only marring society and no longer fully helping it along. He still felt the need, though, to kill. He was not sure who it would be or when it would happen, but he was sure it would be some time soon. He could almost feel his hands itching to fulfill his need for the hunt and then the kill.

She finished pouring his glass and his eyes travelled back to the table where Lillian had been sitting. But Lillian was not back yet, and the man was gone as well, only leaving Lillian's friend who sat vacantly picking at her newly painted nails. Hannibal rose from his seat, a quiet curiosity seemed to pull him towards where Lillian had gone. He could hear his shoes click on the clean wood floor as he rounded the corner to find himself in a corridor with two doors and a payphone. There he saw Lillian leaning against the wall of the hallway, the man standing in a defensive position.

The couple had not noticed Hannibal's presence, so he backed further away and back around the corner, only letting his head peak around to watch the exchange.

"I don't bloody understand you, Lil. You act as if I don't fuckin' exist and then you disappear all the time. It's like you're hiding something from us." Charlie said.

"Why in the hell do you care, huh, Charlie? You got what you wanted from me and now you can just go on."

Charlie. So that was the young man's name, Hannibal thought to himself.

"Oh, can it. You got you wanted didntchya? You wanted me to fuck you and you know it. All the girls want me to fuck them, and it would be rude of me not to oblige." Charlie chuckled and Hannibal watched Lillian's body language change completely. What a cocky man. Had he hurt this woman? What a shame to do so. To break something so beautiful and delicate. But her delicacy was quickly replaced by a strength he had not noticed there before as she shoved the man against the wall with a thud.

"You pathologyically egotistical, self-loving, son of a bitch!" She shouted at him. Not loud enough for the other dining patrons to hear, but loud enough to get the point across. Hannibal held back his laughter at her choice of words. She was so coarse, yet so well-read. What a glorious combination that was. He was becoming more and more fascinated by the minute. He smile quickly faded as the young man stood up from being shoved against the wall and began walking towards Lillian in a predatory manner.

"You fuckin' whore. You know, women like you need someone to teach them to keep their God damned mouth shut!"


	5. Chapter 5: The Hero

**Chapter 5:  
"The Hero"**

That was about all Hannibal could take as he stepped out from around the corner and walked down the hallway, head set and jaw clenched as he set his eyes on Charlie. Both turned as they heard his footsteps. Seeing the look in Dr. Lecter's eyes, Charlie quickly added more space between he and Lillian and it was enough for Hannibal to step in between the two.

He was now eye level with Charlie and his mouth curved into a menacing smile.

"My dear boy. Has your mother not taught you your manners? Or was she too busy popping those pills those shotty lovers gave her while she sucked on every phallic shape that was shown to her?" The words came out a little harsher than Hannibal expected, but Charlie seemed even more stung but yet even more confused by how the doctor was able to somehow look at him and know where he came from. Hannibal tsked at him. "Dear child, run back home before your mouth gets you in more trouble."

Charlie backed away, looking first at Lillian and then the doctor.

"Yes, doctor." Was Charlie's only response.

"And apologize to the lady." Hannibal added.

"Sorry, Lillian." Charlie mumbled, quick to turn his back and leave the doctor and Lillian standing in the hallway. Hannibal turned to face her and saw her confusion. His anger was still racing, but his pulse as still running normal. His hair fell over his right eye as he looked down at the petite young woman. She licked her lips in anticipation of saying something, and even opened her mouth to say it, but yet it did not come.

So there they stood. Like two deaf-mutes, just staring at the other.

"A young woman should be careful when she puts her hands on a man. Men who were not raised well are likely to reciprocate the use of force." He spoke first. He had to, unless he had wanted to continue to memorize the outline and lines of her face. Her cheeks blushed a nice shade of red. A mix of shyness and anger.

"Men should not use such forceful words in front of a lady, doctor." She replied. He tilted his head and silently filed into his mind that she was a very stubborn woman. "But thank you, anyway." She finished.

"You're welcome, m'lady." He smiled genuinely at her and for the first time she noticed his dimples. It made her smile and she quickly looked away. He was good at keeping her gazes and she knew he would probably win any staring contest with anyone.

He wondered what Charlie had meant when he said she had gotten what she wanted from him. He knew it was sexual, but yet it seemed to be two different views on the same occurance. He would have to find that out later. He found himself wanting to touch her again so he put his hand on her shoulder, his thumb lying just over the seam of her shirt to feel his collarbone. This brought her attention back to his face.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine. I'm alright." She responded quickly. But he could see the faint beginning of tears welling in the corners of her eyes, but she blinked and they were gone. He unconciously rubbed his thumb along her collar bone and she sighed, quietly.

"I'd best be getting back to my friend Lara, before she thinks I've drowned." She chuckled quietly. A beautiful laugh to accompany a beautiful smile and he found himself transfixed again and wanting to lean in for a taste. He smiled as well.

"Allow me to accompany you back to your seat." His hand slid down her arm to link their elbows together and she nodded as they made their way, silently, back into the dining area. They arrived at the tabe to find it empty with no Charlie or Lara in sight. A frustrated groan escaped Lillian's lips and she stomped her right foot.

"Oh well. I suppose it's the train station for the second time tonight." She muttered. Hannibal looked at her and quickly decided what to do, pushing away his better judgement and just going with what he wanted.

"Please, just share a cab with me. It's unsafe at this hour for you to be walking alone. Not to mention, it is still raining out there tonight and you wouldn't want to catch your death out there. Besides, I would enjoy the company." He felt as if he was rambling, only because he had just shown her that he wanted to spend time with her, even if it was a fleeting cab ride to her flat.

"Are you sure? I wouldn't want to impose."

"I insist upon it. Here, let me pay our bills at we can go."

"Oh no no!" She stopped his hand from picking up her check that was lying on the now unoccupied table and closed her hand around his. "Please, don't. I can get my own."

His hand quickly turned and grabbed her hand into his and his other reached back around for the check.

"Don't fret, now. It's not as if you ordered a graniose meal." He smiled and turned towards the register, her hand still snuggly in his.


	6. Chapter 6: The Cab Ride

**AN: Thank you again to everyone who reviewed!!! AHumbleVaudevilleVeteran - where are yoooou, btw?? **

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**Chapter 6:  
"The Cab Ride"**

They settled in the cab as the rain poured over the roof, making small sharp sounds as it did so. She could feel the rain making her sleepy, as it always did, and she found herself almost comforted by the presence of the doctor. Ever since the incident with Charlie, she figured he would always making her feel safe now. Their legs touched as they sat comfortably.

"So where are you from?" She asked quickly, remembering her earlier ponderings on where his accent was from.

"Lithuania." He responded. "But I've also lived in France for a good while."

She nodded at his response and smiled at his curious stare.

"And you?" He asked. She supposed it was only fair for him to be able to ask a question now. Quid pro quo, right?

"Mississippi. Down south." He could clearly hear her Southern drawl when she spoke of her origins.

"Ah. Yes. Your accent is clear now."

"Yours is harder to place. I was pondering it during the lecture."

He turned to face her again.

"Pondering anything else?" He asked. Almost hoping for her to say 'yes' and ask him if perhaps he was attracted to her so that he could have an excuse as to tell her, but instead she looked at him like a deer in headlights and just shook her head.

"Not really." She said quickly, but then caught herself and gave a sheepish grin. "Actually, I was also wondering why I had never realized you were so young before now. I always saw you as an older man, truthfully."

"No. I am quite young. Only 25."

The shock on her face was evident and it made him smile.

"You're only 5 years older than me, then. Yet you've accomplished so much. You make me feel as if I'm developing slowly."

This ellicited a soft chuckle from him and he watched her cross her legs and settle into the backseat of the cab further.

"I highly doubt that. I am still in school, I've just got five years on you. Therefore it seems as if my ranking is higher." He felt less guilty knowing the age difference was not as bad as he had expected. Her soft skin and her innocent eyes made her seem so much younger before. But now that he could really get a good look at her without feeling like a preying stalker, he could see she was very much a woman. Her skirt had ridden up, making the slit in the side expose the bottom of her outer thigh, just above her knee and he swallowed hard.

"I suppose, then, I no longer need to call you doctor. I suppose Hannibal will suit you fine."

He liked the way she said it and he was glad for the distraction from the cute freckle just above her knee.

"I suppose so." He said softly.

The moonlight hit her hair just the right way, almost making it seem like a halo. He found the feel of their legs touching to be almost an erotic experience as he could feel the warmth illiciting from where he really wanted to be - between her legs.

But oh, how he wanted more than that. He wanted to be able to hold her in an embrace that he had not had in such a long while. He wanted to listen to the silence of her mind and learn what she meant when she said nothing. He wanted to memorize the look she was giving him now. Such a look with lips pouting and eyes curious, seeking him out of his mind. Her eyes seemed to call him out on his secrets and he wanted to tell her so badly how he wanted to touch her. But the cab ride came to a stop and he removed his gaze from hers and he felt the warmth of her eyes still on him. He wondered if she was feeling the same.

She closed her coat tighter around her as she prepared for the cold when he opened the cab door. The rain had ceased and it gave them the opportunity to say their goodbyes. He stood outside the cab door, holding it open for her as she stepped out onto the campus side walk right outside the dormitory she shared with Lara.

"Thank you, Hannibal." She said, reaching out to shake his hand. He grasped hers firmly and placed his other hand on hers as well, wanting to keep her there as long as possible. But he knew it was cold and he did not want her getting sick.

She leaned in and for the first time in he didn't know how many years, he felt his heart jump but then quickly settle back down to a steady pace as her soft lips landed on his cheek. He could feel her hot breath on the side of his face and he did not want it to leave him, but it did as she pulled away and gave him a smile. He smiled back and despite all shyness, he asked her.

"Would you care to join me for dinner tomorrow evening?" He knew she had said she had to work, but he hoped she would change those plans for him so he quickly added. "Tomorrow is my last day here and I would like very much to spend my dinner in your company."

She smiled shyly and thought of how she did need to work, but how she longed to join him for dinner. Especially since he was soon to be leaving back for the states. She figured she could start the photoshoot early and be able to change into some decent clothing and meet him in time. She did not want the embarassment of having to tell this refined man what she did. She looked into his face trying to tell if it was eager, bored, or pleading. She saw nothing, but his pupils had expanded in the moonlight to an almost welcoming manner.

He unknowingly held his breath in anticipation of her answer.

"I would love to." She said, eagerly.

"Good. I have a suite at The Strand Palace. Suite 2000. It has a full kitchen, and I've found myself quite in the mood to do some cooking." His mind wandered back to the exact meat he had his eye on. He knew where he would be tonight. Almost like a proud lion killing and bringing food to his mistress. That's what he reminded himself of and the thought of it amused him. He wondered if she had come to terms with her animalistic side as he had with his long ago.

"Good, I'll be there at 7, if that's alright. I have to take care of a few things tomorrow." She leaned in for another kiss on his cheek and found herself lingering a little longer than she had wanted to, but this time his lips returned the favor on her cheek as well and she found his pouty lips to be just as soft as they looked. She wondered what they would feel like on her lips, perhaps even on her body. A chill ran down her spine at the very thought of it.

His cheek still rested against hers as he whispered into her ear.

"Perfect." He pulled away. What he really meant to say was 'You're perfect', but he chose to keep it to himself. She smiled wordlessly and turned around to go through the door up to her flat. He stood watching her through the glass of the door as she walked up the steps, her skirt hugging her behind. He felt horribly for thinking these sexual thoughts, when he would be perfectly content only resting with her in bed. He watched until even her black pumps disappeared and then he turned to the cab driver.

"If you could come back in forty-five minutes and pick me up again, I would much appreciate it. I'm going to take a walk." He supplied the driver with some extra money the favor and the driver quickly sped off.


	7. Chapter 7: The Prey

**Chapter 7: "The Prey"**

Hannibal stood on the side of the street, his cigarette hanging from his lips, the smoke travelling upwards out of his nostrils towards the stars. He walked over and leaned against a light post, watching for his prey. He looked briefly up at the building Lillian had just walked inside and quickly jerked his head back as he watched a shadow on a window. He squinted his tired eyes as the shadow ran a brush through their hair and walked around the small room. He smiled as he recognized the outline to be Lillian's.

The curtains were drawn but the light was the perfect font for her silhoutte. He continued to watch, wishing he was there with her. Wishing he was able to quench this thirst that he had for her. His curiosity was drawn to why she had so vehemently denied her friends visiting her at work, yet he did not want to ask her, afraid he would illicit the same reaction. He did not want that Southern anger pointed at him, by any means. Her sensitivity and intelligence made her anger even more pointed and sharp. He found himself only wanting to please her and to make her life easier.

He quickly turned from her shadow as she began to peel of clothes to get into bed. The gentleman in him overrode his desire, but he told himself that perhaps in due time he would see her in that light. It was at that very time the door to the building opened and Hannibal turned his head to see the exact person he'd been waiting for.

"Well, good evening, Charlie."

Charlie's cocky stride ceased and he looked with shock at the doctor, standing against the street lamp. Charlie found the doctor to have a menacing quality about him. Perhaps it was that he dressed in all black, with a nice black leather jacket. Or that his hair was dark hair was slicked back, making his chiseled face even less inviting to one whom he did not favor.

"Good evening, doctor. Good to see you again." Charlie muttered and began to walk away. Hannibal flicked his cigarette to the ground and quickly followed Charlie down the sidewalk. Charlie continued to look behind him and watch the doctor's stride as it briskly matched his and he came up beside him.

"I would like to speak to you a moment."

"Oh, yes. If we could whilst walking. I have to be home soon." Charlie sputtered. His palms began to sweat deep down in his pockets and he could feel his breath becoming short.

"I do believe it will only take but a minute. This looks like a wonderful place."

Hannibal harshly grabbed the man's arm and threw him into a deserted alley way, damp and dingy with a strong odor of trash. Charlie was hurled against the wall with a small thud as his shoulder hit the wall.

"Oomf." Charlie stumbled forward from the impact, and Hannibal immediately backed him up against the wall. Charlie began to struggle until the gleam of a blade shone in the moonlight.

"Doctor-?"

"Please, don't interrupt. I'm sure you've already surmised that I was not quite pleased with your little display of overflowing testosterone earlier towards the young Lillian. I do believe that is just how you are and I have accepted this to be the case. But I cannot allow you to continue acting this way and this seems to be the only way I can rid the earth of the filth you spew"  
Before Charlie could protest, the blade sliced his throat and all that came out was a gurgle.

"Oh, yes, I know. But to proclaim innocence is still denial, you know. Denial is the number one cause of death these days, if you haven't heard." Hannibal continued talking as he circled around the collapsed body of Charlie as a pool of blood formed. Hannibal stooped down and began removing Charlie's suede jacket. Charlie coughed blood up into what normally would be his mouth, but instead it came as a thick stream out of the perfectly straight line across his throat. "Ew." Hannibal scrunched his nose up and shook his head. "Such a filthy man, you know." He mocked his suffering in a most uncaring way that made Charlie's last thoughts go towards Lillian and wonder what the doctor's plans for her were.

Hannibal glanced down at the body as it stilled and watched Charlie take his last breath. Hannibal lay the jacket open and began his ministrations on the corpse. He tucked away his prizes into the suede jacket, wrapping it up into a bundle to carry under his arm. He quickly walked to a puddle and began washing the blood off of his hands and his blade. The blade was once again tucked safely into his jacket and he rose just as he heard the brakes of the cab squeal to a halt outside of the building.


	8. Chapter 8: The Suite

**Chapter 8: "The Suite"**

The flash of the camera brought Lillian out of her daydream and brought her back to her reality. The corset was far too tight this evening and her stockings were beginning to itch.

"Last one, Lil." Benjamin said. He began to take apart his camera as she stretched like a cat off of the couch. She threw down the whip and removed her black wig, shaking her red hair out like a wet dog. She looked at the clock.

"SHIT!" She quickly began gathering her things as Benjamin glanced up, his perfectly arched eyebrow raised in curiosity. It was already 6:41 and she had not even made her way to the train station.

"Hot date tonight?" He teased in a knowing manner. He always knew. Whether by accident or by questioning.

"No. Just dinner with someone. Just friends." She replied quickly. Were they just friends? She felt a strong attraction to him, but she did not want to automatically assume he was interested in her as well. He was a very well travelled and refined man.

What could he want with her?

She resolved that she did not have time to change, so she slipped on her skirt and a black blouse over her corset. She would just have to live with it tonight. Perhaps she would have time to quickly remove it at the hotel in the bathroom and slip it into her purse.

"I'm leaving! I'll see you on Monday!" She hastily kissed Benjamin's and then Johanness' cheeks and quickly ran out the door. Her stockings still itched as she jogged as fast as her heels would let her towards the train station. She only had but six blocks to make it to the ritzy hotel. She ran down the steps of the train station and onto the train. She tapped her toes, unable to sit down because of her anticipation.

Would her kiss her tonight? If he did, would she kiss him back? She knew he was only here on business and would thus be leaving the next morning. But she remembered imagining his soft lips on hers the other night and how after she had undressed and gotten into bed, how she had imagined it had been him touching her and not herself. She wanted him to make it easy and just tell her what his intentions and thoughts were. But he was not that kind of man.

The train stopped and she glanced at her watch. It was 6:53 and she rushed out of the train and began running up the steps. It would be so terribly tacky of her to be late. She reached in her pocket and began frantically bobby-pinning her hair back, leaving a few strands to frame her face. Just as she finished her hair her shoe caught on a stair and she stumbled.

"Ouch!" Lillian bit her lip to hold back a scream as her knee collided with the edge of the stair. She quickly recovered and continue to walk briskly towards the hotel. She made her way through the lobby, ignoring the stares of the bellhops and pressed the button for the elevator.

Floor two came quickly and she found room 2000 with still a minute to spare. She knocked on the door and waiting patiently, now that the rush to be there on time was over.

Hannibal looked up from the plates he had just finished preparing and glanced at the clock. Ah, he loved a woman who was on time. He smiled and ran a hand through his hair. He had decided to not slick it back tonight, trying to leave a casual feel to perhaps make her more comfortable while she was here. He made his way towards the door and opened it to reveal a sight he had missed, but had kept in his mind the whole while she had not been there.

There she stood in a long black coat, black stockings, red skirt, and a black blouse. He was a little disgruntled to see her fiery red hair pulled back, but it gave him more of a view of her lovely neck.

"Please, come in." She crossed over the threshold and once again he could smell the warm scent of vanilla as he removed her coat for her.

"Wow, it smells lovely." She smiled and after putting her coat safely in the coat closet he turned and finally got a good look at her.

"Thank you. Are you hungry? Everything is ready." He placed his hand on her lower back to usher her towards the table. He was quite excited about the meal he had prepared and hoped she would enjoy it as much as he would. He had always believed you treasured something more if you worked for it, and that was definitely true even in the realm of love. As his hand rested on her lower back, he was not so surprised to find a stiffer material underneath her blouse.

In his spare time of the morning he had done some research on his main interest and found her to be not so innocent, despite her actions and her alluring sweetness. He had not been proud to admit the stirring he felt in his pants as he thumbed through the magazine, with picture after picture of her in a black corset and lacey thigh highs. It was not the poses, for those were not overtly sexual. It was the fact that it was HER. This innocent young red head, when put in the clothing (or lack there of) and the wig was somehow transformed into a smoldering sex pot who, although looked quite prudish and picky, would be more than willing to fulfill every nasty and non-conventional sexual fantasy that the special man in her life had.

Did she have a man in her life? From the people he had asked throughout the day, it was no. He had found Benjamin, her photographer, and spoke with him. Benjamin would never tell her that, of course. Lecter could see although Benjamin was not intimidated, he also was not about to go back on his word of secrecy between he and the doctor.

He was quite embarassed of the fact that after the lovely viewing where he could see, in plain view, her creamy thighs above the stockings, he had immediately come back to the hotel to relieve himself, for fear that when she did come by that evening, he would have no control over the actions he would take. The fantasies went on and on in his mind, every position and every possible sound that could come from her beautiful mouth. But the fantasies always ended with them sharing delicate kisses, curled in a warm embrace underneath crisp, white sheets. He wanted every side of her: The good, the bad, and the loving. Oh, how he wanted her.

And the touch of her only made it harder to resist. He did not want it to be a one time thing, but he also did not want to leave without atleast trying.

He sat her down in a chair at the table and quickly poured them both glasses of wine and went to retrieve their appetizer.


	9. Chapter 9: Tongue N Cheek

**Chapter 9: "Tongue N' Cheek"**

The appetizer was a nice salad with grated cheese, freshly made croutons, and baby spinach. The dinner rolls were soft and fresh, and although the conversation was good, the wonderful food was not unnoticed by Lillian. The conversation had gone every which way, and Hannibal found himself answering her questions without reserve. Her curiosity did not scare him, because he knew there were no underlying reasons.

Once the meal came, he was not nervous when she asked what the delicious meat was.

Tongue, he had told her. Tongue of what was not asked. Nor did she ask. Instead she devoured the food and the conversation once again went back to her childhood. He did not tell her much about his. Just that he had lost his family in the war and he was raised in an orphanage, until he had gone to live with his aunt. She accepted this answer, but gave him knowing eyes that said she would not delve into such a tender subject.

She did not mention that Charlie had not come to pick up Lara that day like he had promised. Nor did she mention that a homeless man had found a headless corpse that afternoon, burned in the dumpster, and that the campus was swarming with police.

He took satisfaction in knowing that just as Charlie had seemingly devoured some of her self-confidence and also her innocence, she was now devouring what was left of him. Not only that, but the she was devouring the same instrument he had used to injure her emotionally. Yes. She was in more control than she thought, and it made Hannibal smile. He was sure if she knew, she would be most disgusted and disgruntled by it, but to him it was more of a lesson taught to a scumbag and not so much a sick fetish that he had.

After dinner, they found themselves on the sofa in the living area of the suite. Hannibal was nursing his third glass of wine, while Lillian sat comfortably in the mental sense but uncomfortable in the physical. Hannibal now found himself fighting an internal and physical battle whilst being in such close proximity with her. She crossed her legs and his eyes immediately travelled down them.

"Oh!" She exclaimed, noticing the same time he did a tear in her stockings on her knee where she remembered hitting it on the stairs. Dried blood had seaped out of the wound and was clearly visibly through the tear.

"Oh no! Shit...brand new stockings." She muttered. He smiled at her use of such coarse language and acted as if he had no personal interest as he retrieved some rubbing alcohol and a cotton ball from his bag. He kneeled in front of her as he began to reach out to grab her leg.

"Wait, wait." His hopes began to fall as he thought she would tell him to not touch her and to please get away, but his hopes quickly swelled among other parts as she in the most-lady like manner that she could muster in this situation, lifted the hem of her skirt a tiny bit to reach under and unhook the thigh high from the garter belt. His hands and his face were so close to those thighs he had just earlier been imagining wrapped around his hips and he now imagined them wrapped around his shoulders. He swallowed hard as her delicate fingers pulled the one stocking off, exposing her bare leg.

She resituated and he noticed she made sure to keep her legs tightly together.

"Be gentle." She joked. "It really isn't anything but a scratch, you know. I fell trying to go up a flight of stairs too fast." She was amused by her own clumsiness, if not a little embarassed and began laughing a little out of nervousness. And him kneeling on the floor in front of her was not helping her cause one bit. He looked up at her as he grasped her calf.

"You know, as a doctor I suppose it's just reflex to have to clean a wound, no matter the size. Besides, I would hate for such a trivial thing to go untouched and then scar you up." He managed out as his hands collided with her soft skin. He softly cleaned the cut to find it not nearly as bad as it had seemed, but still a fairly deep gash.

She could feel his breath on her knee, as it hit the rubbing alcohol and it made her shiver a little. She sucked in a breath as he gently blew on the alcohol to dry it. He heard her intake of breath and his eyes travelled up the leg which he held to look at her. She was looking at him but her eyes quickly travelled away and fell on the other stocking.

'Don't look at him, just don't look at him. Just...don't...look...at...him.' She repeated it over and over as her eyes ran from the table to the lamp to the lovely curtains and then she went back to speaking, thinking that this was all in her head and how very silly she would look if she made a move. How very silly, especially if she were rejected.

"Might as well take this one off as well. No use in just wearing one and not the other." She avoided the awkward situation and began to remove the other one. She finished removing it and lay it on the couch next to her. Her head jerked back to Hannibal as she felt his lips on her knee. He couldn't help but admit how proud he felt to be very much in control now that she had shown such shyness and had still not told him to not touch her, as he had been expecting. He knew it was bold, but he did it anyway. He knew her mood well enough to know that her nervousness might make her not tell him no.

He still was not sure of her attraction to him, but he would find out soon enough, he supposed. His lips left the area of the wound and he forced himself to look back up at her. She was biting her bottom lip as she watched him, anticipating his next move.


	10. Chapter 10: The Bold

**AN: **Thanks to everyone who is reviewing!! You all really keep me going. Here's a big ass update for you all. I can't seem to stop writing! I guess I could always leave you guys waiting for like, 5 days at a time but I figure you'll get tired of that so I'll continue with the close to daily updates.

And yes, THE SCENE is coming up! And trust me, it will be good!

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**Chapter 10: "The Bold"**

"Was that too bold?" Hannibal questioned, once again he was unsure of himself as he watched her face. His thumb lazily stroked her smooth and muscular calf as she contemplated what she would say. She cleared her throat and shook her head.

"Bold, perhaps. But not too terribly." She managed. Hannibal rose up to where he was higher on his knees and placed both hands on either side of her, resting on the couch. They came face to face and watched eachother. Lillian's thoughts raced as she watched the man in front of her. Was this really happening? What was she getting herself into with all this? He would be gone in the morning and all this was was a fling. She would wonder if he even meant all of this.

Was the point of dinner to seduce her? The point of saving her, was it to make her trust him? Was he manipulative just as the other men had been? Hannibal watched these thoughts cross her face, and he was comforted that his instincts had come back to the point where he could finally read her. But she could read him as well, and he did not regret leaving himself open.

As he watched her insecurities flash across her eyes, his palm came up to cup her cheek. Her soft skin warm underneath his fingertips.

She could tell he was as unsure as her, wondering if perhaps he even wanted to do this when he knew he would be leaving, as well. She felt a jolt in the pit of her stomach as his eyes roamed over her in a most sexual manner. He did not even have to say anything, much less touch her, to make her want him. He did it all with his eyes. And his mouth. God his mouth! He wet his lips as his eyes rested on her bosom as it heaved slowly up and down.

He leaned in, and she could feel his warm breath on her lips. He smelled of wine, although he was not drunk. He wet his lips again before speaking.

"Would this be too bold, then?"

That was all he said before his lips landed on her mouth in a soft kiss. Her lips were soft against his as their lips moved together in a sweet, but teasing manner. He pulled away and looked at her, waiting for a response as his fingertips came to her ears and he played with her earlobe. She shivered but was relaxed as she smiled at his questioning face. He looked like a little boy, she thought. Eyes wide, lips parted, looking up at her for a response. Any response. She smiled again.

"If too bold is what you were looking for, you will have to try harder." She responded teasingly. A smile immediately lit up his face as he leaned forward and captured her lips in the hungry kiss that he had so wanted, but held back for. Her hands wandered to his dark hair, lightly gripping. His hand went from her earlobe to her hair, which was still pinned back. He grumbled deep in his throat in disappointment, but kept his concentration on the kiss that she was returning. His fingers worked out the bobby pins as his other hand travelled from her calf to her outer thigh, passed the freckle he so loved, and to the base of her un-needed garter belt.

His lips took control of hers as he gently opened her mouth with his tongue, wanting to know what her mouth tasted like. Their tongues danced and battled in a never ending play for control. They parted for a breath, but his mouth was on her again. He had begun to think his thirst would be quenched, and it had been. Her lips only started a fire now that the thirst was gone, and the fire would not be easily controlled. As she took a breath, his mouth worked on the pale skin of her neck in soft kisses and nibbles trailing down to her collar bone.

He listened to her ragged breathing as his fingers massaged the base of her scalp now that her hair was free from its confinement. He listened to the short, small gasps everytime his teeth came in contact. The small gasps made him quiver, wondering what she would sound like as he thrust into her. The thought excited him so much he bit down hard enough to leave a loud, red mark and quickly licked the wound in a half-hearted apology. He could feel her hand in his hair and he pulled away to look back into her eyes. Her breathing was ragged and her lips swollen from his kisses.

She could feel her excitement building up between her thighs as he leaned over her. They were nose to nose, breathing heavy, but in rhythm with the others' lungs. He softly kissed her nose in an attempt to seem less hungry, but she did not suppress her thoughts at all as she tightened the grip on his hair and spoke the only words he needed to hear.

"Bolder, please."


	11. Chapter 11: Mine

A/N: The long awaited chapter! Well...you waited for like checks calendar 3 days, but STILL! God bless ya'll for the wonderful reviews and I'm sure this one will get some (after you clean up...teehee!). I always assumed Hannibal would be a good lay and I always assumed Gaspard Ulliel would be too (but if I ever meet him, I didn't say ANY of this). This will be one of the many scenes. So...LET'S GET IT ON!

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**Chapter 11: Mine**

**Warning: Graphic sex. If you don't like (who doesn't like sex?) then don't read!**

Hannibal stood and pulled Lillian up with him. He gently kissed her knuckles and then her neck. Now that they stood, he pulled her small, curvy frame against his lean, tall one. He buried his face in her hair and lost himself in her scent. He then led her into the suite's bedroom, turning out lamps as he went. Her hand gripped his and she was a little caught off guard by how calm and collected he now was. He was impatient, but did not want to show loss of control to her. Therefore he kept his steps casual and calm as he led her around.

They walked into the bedroom past the double doors and he turned his back to shut them. She turned and surveyed the bedroom. The walls were a deep crimson and the bed was a four post with a gorgeous canopy. This no doubt had cost a lot of money to stay here and she found herself caught up in the romanticisim and a little overwhelmed. She had never been anywhere this nice. She might have looked well-bred, but she was still a farmer's daughter from Mississippi.

She was brought out of her silent contemplation as two arms wrapped around her confined waist and for the first time tonight she remembered her corset. His fingertips brushed aside her hair as his lips went to the back of her neck, lightly sucking. His hands travelled over her cashmere blouse and rested on her breasts, which had immediately responded despite the thick fabric between them and his hands.

She leaned her head back onto his shoulder, enjoying the attention he was lavishing on her neck and moaned softly as he nibbled on her earlobe. She could feel him smile and she turned around to face him. She couldn't stand it anymore as she finally took the lead and caught his lips in a wanton kiss, her hands pulling his turtleneck out of his dress pants. Once she could, her hands travelled over his stomach and her fingernails raked from his chest to right above his belt buckle and for the first time she heard him moan.

He didn't know what the hell this woman was doing to him. All he knew is that the harder he became the less blood was getting to his brain, therefore he wasn't thinking so terribly well. Her fingernails were driving him crazy and his hands moved from her waist to her round bottom as he pulled her forward towards his pelvis roughly. Her cry of surprised was muffled by his mouth and he slowly backed her up towards the large bed.

His hand cupped her face as he looked at her and he glanced down at her hands on his chest. He stared at her intensely as he worked through his words. There were so many in his head, but none of which were coherent. All he wanted to do was throw her down and fuck her until she couldn't stand. He wanted to hear her cry out his name and maybe even tell him to stop when the moment was too intense. He wanted to make her his, and he would.

He began to unbutton her blouse as she stood, nervously. He was not sure why she was nervous, he had seen how she posed in the photographs. But here, she was a nervous school girl. She was an innocent young lady. And it made him want her more. The blouse fell open to expose the black corset he had known she was wearing. He pushed the blouse to rest of the way off of her as it fell to the floor.

His fingers traced the contures of her ample bosom and he felt her hands removing his belt. His shirt was over his head before he knew it and he realized how lost he was in the site of her pale skin perfectly fitted over every delicious curve.

He came to and reached around and unzipped her skirt letting it fall to the foor, over her heels. Next went the useless garter belt, and then her underwear, and finally her heels were kicked off into a corner of the room. She was immediately in his arms as he lifted her up and lay her on the bed. She relaxed underneath his weight and giggled as he tried to remove his shoes withouth moving off of her. He accomplished this with a small "Aha!" and then began working his pants off. She helped him along and then once he was completely nude, she realized she was still in her corset. She glanced at him and he held her eyes with an intense and lustfull gaze.

"Keep it on." He ordered. She noticed his accent became thicker and it made her even more ready for him. She nodded in compliance as his lips fell back on hers and his tongue swirled around her mouth.

There were so many things he wanted to do to her that would just have to wait. For now, they needed to release all the sexual tension that had built up. He grabbed her thighs and wrapped them around his hips, his cock poised at her opening. He could feel her wetness and let out a shaky breath as he opened his eyes mid-kiss and pulled away just so he could hear her when he entered her, as he bit his bottom lip in anticipation.

He quickly pushed into her and the sound was better than he was imagined. A strangled cry mixed with pain and pleasure as her inexperienced walls stretched to accompodate him. He had not even stopped to consider that perhaps she was inexperienced, but he knew he would not have gotten the same wonderful sound from her mouth had he been the least bit gentle. His fingers brushed over her open mouth briefly before placing them on her thigh again. She leaned her head back and turned away from him. He reached under her chin and turned her face towards him. She looked at him and bit her lip, her eyes encouraging him to continue. He did not need words or further explanation.

He pulled out and thrust again, his large hands gripped her hip on the leg that was raised higher than the other. His other arm went underneath her, to lift her up and expose her chest to him. He watched in silence, except for the small grunts that escaped his throat every time his hips met hers. He could feel himself filling her to the brink and he began nimbly running his fingers over her barely exposed aerolas above the corset.

As he continued his slow, hard thrusts he buried his head in her cleavage, biting lazily in little nips as she gasped and arched under his body. He concentrated on not losing control too soon and felt her press her hands against his chest. He rose up and supported himself on his strong, lean arms and looked down at her as he repositioned and began to pound into her the way he had imagined he would the other night. But her pussy felt so much tighter and warmer than his hand and more so than he could've imagined.

His hair fell in his face as he grunted out her name, and immediately he felt her pussy tighten in response. "Do you like when I talk to you?" He asked. She nodded in response and his hand went to her neck to lightly hold it. "Yes?" He asked.

"Yes." She breathed. He removed his hand and kissed her mouth softly. He stretched her legs wider as he drove deeper into her center. He could feel their juices mingling where they connected, running onto his thighs as the sound of skin hitting skin echoed off the walls. He studied her body and her heaving chest, her confined waist, and her round hips as he lifted up on his knees so he could watch himself dive in and out.

Her hands reached behind and gripped the pillow as she whispered soft words. He leaned closer over her and fucked her softly now, his ear over her mouth.

"What?" He teased. His thumbs teased the inside of her thighs and she gasped for breath.

"Please..." Lillian opened her eyes to look at his face and moaned just watching him grind his hips to her's as sweat dripped down his face. The look on his face was one of pleasure, satisfation, and animalism as he smiled at her.

"Please what?" His hand was on her breast again and she felt foolish for being so forward, but she wanted it.  
"Turn me over."

Hannibal immediately removed himself, leaving her feeling void, but he filled her once again right when she was on all fours, rump in the air. She let out a scream at the difference the angle made and buried her face in the pillow as he grabbed her cheeks and began to penetrate her mercilessly. His hands moved to the tie of the corset and then down her back again, outer thigh, inner thigh, and to her sensitive clit. He slowly rubbed with a light touch, like a feather, and she felt a warmth rush from her toes to her head.

As the orgasm built slowly she felt a tightening in her gut, among other places. The fullness of his member inside of her was beyond words and her vocalizations became louder. His hand went under her waist and he leaned down over her ear.

"Lillian..." He moaned softly as she turned her head to look in his eyes as best he could. His lips were pink and parted and his thrusts had become short and hard and she knew it was almost over. He needed release and he needed it to be inside of her. Nothing else would do. It claimed her as his and therefore he would fill her with himself.

"Come for me." He murmered, lips brushing against her ear. His voice made her contractions begin as she cried out his name. He straightened back up and grabbed the ties of her corset. "Come for me, Lillian." He said louder as he pulled her laces tighter, thrusting himself in and out of her soft folds. She was so tight he couldn't stand it and as she began to lose control, so did he.

Lillian had never felt anything so intense as she stayed on the edge of climax for what seemed like forever. She quietly gasped and moaned, trying to get it out of her, trying anything to bring this release on. Her laces tightened again and she could feel her head becoming light. It was so intense. Too intense.

"Stop..." She didn't know why she said it, because that was the last thing she wanted. But she felt like she was losing her mind. "Please...Oh my God." Her face was flushed, body sweating, and mind reeling. Her pleading only egged him on as he grabbed her cheeks and with a slap on her ass, rammed himself into her and thus began the onslaught of the most intense feeling in Lillian's life.

Stars literally appeared in front of her eyes as she could feel herself uncontrollably clenching and unclenching, milking him dry as he emptied himself in her. She could hear him moaning in her ear.

And with each small thrust which road out the end of the orgasm, he recited, "Mine. Mine. Mine."


	12. Chapter 12: Leaving

AN: Thanks for all the reviews you guys!!! I love ya! This story still has a ways to go and I'm pretty sure I know where it's going, so be patient with me. Here are two chapters to hold you over, and of course you'll be angry with how I end Chapter 13. Teehee. SORRY! I'm proud of my new title - Queen of Smut! Haha! I'll be sure to write loads more dirty scenes for your liking! Enjoy

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**Chapter 12: Leaving**

It was bright. Too damn bright, but the warmth was lovely and Lillian snuggled into the soft bed. She grimaced as she stretched her sore legs, her tired muscles elsewhere were reacting the same. She lifted her heavy eyelids and looked at those maroon walls again. The walls from last night. The walls that had been spinning. She blushed to herself and rolled over to find the other side of the bed empty. She frowned and sat up quickly. She looked down at her nude form and noticed her corset had been removed, and looked over to see it lying on a chair.

The room was quiet and she looked around, squinting her tired eyes. She didn't see Hannibal anywhere. Did he leave her? After all of that? Had he left? She looked around for any sign of his clothing or shoes, perhaps even a discarded sock. NOTHING! She furiously threw the covers off and stomped around looking for her clothes from last night. After having no luck, she picked up the bed sheet and wrapped it around her body, tucking it above her left breast.

She strode, angrily into the living area, hands on hips. Her lips were tight as she fumed to herself, looking around for her clothes.

She would not cry! NO! She would not. Hell, she didn't even know the man and he was not worth crying over for all she knew. It's not like they were in love or even loved eachother as friends. She turned over couch cushions looking for pieces of clothes. She picked up her torn stocking and threw it down on the floor. She remembered afterwards how he had held her tightly to his chest and did not let her go. She had fallen asleep with her hair flowing across his pale, muscular chest and she remembered him running his fingers through it lazily. That was the last she remembered of him. His sleepy smile and his intense eyes.

Her eyes turned to the table, where she saw her clothes neatly folded and cleaned. They smelled of laundry detergent and fabric softener. Next to her clothes was a vase of fresh lillies. No note, no letter, no sign of him. She stared at the flowers blankly. Was she supposed to be angry? Or were these supposed to forgive him for just leaving and catching his flight back to Maryland without saying goodbye? She grabbed her clothes and dropped the sheet carelessly in the floor as she slowly moved to the bathroom for a shower.

She cried in the shower as she washed the scent of him off. She didn't feel guilty for anything that happened, but she knew he was not coming back. She knew that her hopes of him staying were in vain and rediculous. She had school and so did he. They had lives separated by ocean and age. They were flying in two different directions, and she knew it. She just couldn't accept it all at once. All she could do was wash what was left of him away.

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Hannibal sat back in the chair in the office at his home. It felt good to be back in a familiar setting. It felt good, but so terribly mundane. His thoughts meandered back to the redhead he had left sleeping in the hotel room. He did not want to tell her that he had already felt a connection with her. He did not want to scare her, even though he had taken pride in all the people who he had scared in the past. He only hoped she felt the same way, for he had already set into motion in his mind that he had claimed her, and therefore he would be back to take her away with him back to the states. He did not even question whether or not she would say yes.

He tapped his pen on the blank parchment. He had planned a note to leave with the flowers, but he was not sure what to say besides the things he was so terribly trying to conceal. He at times felt like a monster, and at others felt so nervous and small. The only words he got out were "My Lillian" before he realized all he had been doing was watching her sleep, and by that time he had to leave for his flight. So he had given her a soft kiss on her lips and left. His face had stayed stoic and he had not let on any sort of emotion. He did not have time for love. Besides, what was left of him to love?

He grimaced at the thought. He remembered that statement. It had made him bitter and it had made him not care anymore who he killed. It didn't matter if they were horrible people who committed horrible crimes. He would kill anyone who annoyed him in the least. Hannibal roughly stood up and walked into his bedroom. Putting on the record player he peeled off his clothes and lay down in his king-size bed and tried to will himself to sleep.

Images of her danced around in his head and his blue eyes stayed open, staring at the ceiling, until he blinked hard and the images still did not go away. He rested his palms against his bare chest and tapped his fingers to the orchestra until finally he rolled his eyes. He was being foolish! Only a teenager would do that...but he couldn't help it. He threw off the covers and padded nude up to his suitcase, which was still packed.

He reached under his neatly folded socks and pulled out the magazine he had found with Lillian in it. He thumbed through it until he found her picture and he sighed. Memory was wonderful, but pictures made memory even better. Clutching the magazine he lay back down and stared up at the picture. He dreaded the black wig she wore for all her photos, but it was still Lillian. He scanned over her body as he regretted not doing so many more things to her. He had hoped to be able to taste her, and perhaps for her to do the same for him.

His hand stroked his member slowly as he imagined her mouth. How badly he wanted her to take all of him into her mouth and watch her swallow slowly after release came. It did not take Hannibal long to let go after his imagination ran wild. His breathing settled and the magazine fell to the floor beside his bed as he drifted off into a restless sleep.


	13. Chapter 13: Welcome Back

**Chapter 13: Welcome Back**

Lillian stood, stone-faced as she watched the casket leave the large, wooden double doors of the church. The tears would not come, but Lara made up for Lillian's lack of tears with her incessant bawling. Everyone filtered out of the church, into the bright sunlight, and Lillian squinted. Her eyes shifted to the inspectors huddled around Charlie's parents and watched them carefully as they continued to question the grieving mother.

Lillian had never expected Charlie to be murdered. It just seemed so unexpected and so...odd. No one had told her the details of the murder as of yet. She had been so obsessed with putting the pieces of Lara back together, that she hadn't even thought to ask any questions. She knew the news had taken a liking to the story of the grizzly murder, but everytime it came on, Lara would scream and bawl and turn the TV off. So Lillian remained ignorant, and happily so.

"I'm going to talk to mummy." Lara sniffled and walked away towards her mother and father and left Lillian standing alone outside the doors. They were going to bury Charlie in the cemetery where they buried all the good Catholic school boys. Lillian was tired and did not want to even bother pretending to be grief stricken, so she quickly took the opportunity to begin walking down the street towards the church's gazebo in the garden. Her feet took her there faster than she had expected and she plopped down to take her shoes off and rub her sore feet.

In the three weeks that had passed since that one night, too much had happened. She couldn't count how many times she had stayed up late comforting Lara, how many quizzes she had failed due to lack of sleep, how many bad dreams she had where she herself was found decapitated, and how many nights she stayed up trying to figure out if Hannibal...well, Dr. Lecter...had meant anything of what happened. She continued to tell herself that all it was was just pure, animalistic urges and it did not figure any matters of the heart into the mix. She, of course, knew she had certain feelings towards him. In the short time they had talked she had imagined perhaps getting to know him better and even played with the idea of what it would be like to be his lover.

But reality always came knocking right in the middle of those daydreams and she realized she had been left and was a one night stand. She of course had no idea that Hannibal was very much so possessive of her. She did not see the millions of drawings he did in his spare time. There was one he was fond of and liked very much. It was a drawing of Lillian in a field of daises, barefoot, with her hair cascading down her shoulders. He always imagined her as she would be back home. Comfortable sun dresses and running barefoot, smiling. The drawings piled up in his office. It kept her face fresh in his mind. Not as if he needed any help.

But when the time came that he was asked back to that same university to do another lecture, he jumped at the opportunity. He packed his things a couple of days before his departure and even took off a week from work so he could stay. He had imagined how he would approach her, yet each approach seemed worse than the first. He truly didn't know how he was going to do it. He knew once he saw her face he would be left speechless. He felt horrible for how he had left and could only imagine her feelings on the subject. He would just have to explain it to her. That was all he could do.

His lecture was scheduled a week after Charlie's funeral and Lillian found out about it through a classmate. All the color had drained from her face and she had to go vomit in the ladies room from pure nerves. She found out the day before that he would be there and she was definitely unprepared. What was she going to say? Well, if he even spoke to her. He might just pretend she didn't exist and just find himself some other little student. So, she prepared her stone-faced looks, she prepared her snippy replies, and she practiced saying 'Dr. Lecter' instead of the 'Hannibal' she had moaned and screamed that night. The summer had been warm, so she prepared her favorite summer dress with short sleeves and a wonderful neckline. The green complimented her pale skin and her hair. The fabric that tied between her breasts only accentuated her curves. She knew she did it on purpose. She did it to let him see what he had left behind and what he couldn't have again. She had prepared herself overnight to be untouchable and unattainable. Or so she thought.

The afternoon of the lecture she waltzed into university, head held high and nose in the air. But as her steps drew closer she could feel her heart beating faster and faster. She got lost in the crowd walking into the large classroom and felt relieved that she would not have to walk in alone. She took a seat near the back for her own comfort and kept her head away from looking up at her professor and the strong presence she sensed in the room. It was a dark, ominous presence and she knew where he was at every second. She busied herself getting out her notebook and a couple of pencils. She smiled at a few people she knew and kept her eyes to anything but the front of the class. She could feel his eyes on her and it bothered her a little. She did not feel like playing any games.

Hannibal knew she had walked in from the strong scent of vanilla that surrounded her. When he looked up his heart lept into his throat as he saw his goddess in a green sundress, her hair cascading down her shoulders in soft waves as it did in all his drawings. He noted her not looking his way so he continued to stare, hoping to catch her blue eyes. But she did not. His disappointment was muffled by the professor urging everyone to get seated and be quiet.

She did not look up for the entire lecture and he did notice she was taking notes this time. Lillian actually paid attention and enjoyed what he was speaking on quite a bit. Once, he looked away and she made the mistake of looking up. She gasped softly as she let her eyes rest on him for the first time since the last in five weeks. How his hair hung over one eye when he would look down at his notes, how his black shirt clung to his toned body, and how his pants fit his hips. She had a flash of his hips between her thighs and she quickly looked down again at her notes. She evened out her breathing just in time for the end of the lecture. She quickly closed her notebook, gathered her pencils, and stood up.

Her pace was quick as she headed for the door and once again she felt eyes on her. As she walked out the door of the classroom into the empty hallway she panicked. She had somewhere along the way lost the crowd of students she was walking out with and realized they had taken the other direction out of the classroom door. She kept her cool and kept her eyes on the exit to the outside, for she could still feel his eyes on her. She knew he was behind her and she could feel his presence getting even closer. His legs were much longer than hers, and her shoes did not permit her to take long strides.

She gasped as she felt a hand gently grab her arm and pull her into a nearby door and shut it behind her.


	14. Chapter 14: The Closet

**AN:** Thanks you guys for the great reviews! I'm so glad to see so many people writing Hannibal Rising fics!!!! You guys really keep me writing. The point of this story is to create a side of young Hannibal that was not truly explored. Hope I've accomplished it in a believable way. Hey, here's more SEXXX!

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**Chapter 14: The Closet**

**Warning: This chapter contains explicit sex.**

Her back was against the wall and her arms were held firm by large, strong hands. She felt a body softly press against her. Her eyes adjusted to the dark and she realized they were in a janitorial closet. She looked up into his bright eyes as he looked down at her. His lips hovered above her mouth as he breathed softly.

"Why are you running?" He asked, softly. She avoided eye contact and smiled bitterly.

"Why did you run?"

Her question stung and he knew he should have expected it. His eyes looked away from her's briefly in a moment of weakness and she realized this and tried to go for the door. His hands tightened and she was once again against the wall, his lips on hers and his tongue greedily wanting entrance. She pulled away fiercely, hot tears sprung to her eyes.

"Just fucking stop." She hissed. He pulled away in shock as she rubbed her sore arms. "You think you can just come here and get what you want when you want it. I figured you were different, but I suppose every man will be a man. You left me alone, used and discarded. Now you've come back and you want more. Well, what if I have nothing more to give, Dr. Lecter?"

Her use of such a cold way of addressing him stung him even more and he found his sudden anger subsiding as it was replaced with a sadness. He reached for her and this time she allowed him. She wanted him to explain, and she wanted him to apologize. No matter how angry she was, she wanted some sort of conclusion to be drawn. She was suddenly pulled into his arms as she felt him bury his face in her hair and inhale deeply.

"You misunderstand me, darling." He murmered. "I left because I had to. I did not know what to say or do before I left without compromising my dignity as a man. You fill my senses and my memories. You've replaced the nightmares and you've brought out a different hunger in me. I have missed you and you must understand that I just did not know how to handle the situation, so therefore I did not."

She pulled away from him, her fingers looped around his belt loops and looked into his face. His sincerity was raw and unhidden. She nodded sadly in half-hearted understanding. His words did not frighten her, but only fueled the fire of emotions she had only been trying to drown since he had left. The possibility of him feeling so strongly for her made her feel giddy. She softly smiled and her smile grew as his fingertips graised her cheekbones softly and trailed down to her collarbone. His gentle touch created a bubbling desire inside of her and she could feel his eyes travelling down to her exposed cleavage. Her chest heaved in excitement as her fingers moved from his belt loops to the buttons on his trousers.

She looked up at him for any sign of disagreement on his part, but there was none. Her fingers nimbly undid his belt, the buttons, and the zipper and as they found their way to his already hard member she was once again shoved against the wall. His hands were on her legs as he lifted her up, the skirt of her dress around her waist as he plunged into her quickly. Her squeal was muffled by his hand over her mouth and she smiled beneath his hand at his impatience to be inside of her.

She wrapped her legs around his waist as his hips made teasing circles, his cock hitting all the right spots. With one hand still over her mouth his other ripped open the top of her dress, her breasts exposed to the cool air. His mouth was quickly on them, licking and sucking. Her moans became louder and she bit down gently on his hand, eliciting a soft growl from deep within his chest. His hand grabbed her hip and he drove himself into her to the hilt and her muffled whimpering drove him mad as he tried his hardest to hold back his orgasm.

They could hear the students talking loudly as they went to their perspective classrooms and the fear of being caught was exciting and thrilling. Hannibal kissed her neck and smiled at what a sight it would be for him to be found, his pants around his ankles, with his cock driving into the tight pussy of his young lover in the janitorial closet. He grunted as her soft bite on his index finger was replaced by her soft, wet lips as she gently sucked in rhythm to his thrusting. His power to hold onto control was slowly draining as his hips now gave short, hard thrusts.

He removed his hand from her mouth and turned her face towards his. Looking her square in the eye as he could feel her begin to come. His eyes made her lose control and for a moment the intensity scared her. He reached up and ran his fingers roughly through her hair as he leaned his forehead on hers.

"Tell me you are mine." He breathed.

"I'm yours." She moaned.

"Again." He ordered.

"I'm yours."

"Again, Lillian."

"YOURS!" She shouted as she came hard and she saw in his eyes so many things. Love. Power. Humility. Trust. Animalism. Hunger. As she came down from her climax she could feel him begin his and she smiled at the reaction she received as she clenched and unclenched around him intentionally. The sounds that came from his beautiful mouth were nothing more than sinful as his breath hitched in his throat and she felt him begin to fill her.

They rested there, against the wall, their breathing uneven and jagged as he held her, his face buried in the crook of her neck. When he lowered her down she quickly adjusted her top as he redid his belt and zipper to prepare to go out into the now somewhat empty hallway. He kissed her cheek softly and grabbed her hand. He poked his head out the door and pulled her out, the surroundings clear. He dropped her hand and turned to her.

"Give me a moment to gather my things."

She followed him to the classroom and watched him replacing his notes and books into his briefcase. When he was finished he grabbed her hand as they walked out of the school and into the warm, sunny weather.


	15. Chapter 15: Bathwater

**Chapter 15: Bathwater**

The ride home in the cab was a quiet one, but he held her hand gently in his. His eyes seemed suspicious as he watched the scenery. She wondered why he was always on edge. She wanted to understand his mind, but yet she was afraid to ask. Hannibal wanted to know her as well, but his patience was set deep and he knew in time he would know her.

"Stay with me...at the hotel. I am here a week." He glanced at her as his thumb stroked her knuckles. She smiled at him.

"Okay." She agreed, happily. She was anxious to spend as much time with him as she could. She knew he would have to leave again, so therefore she would get as much out of his being there as she could. She was eager to once again be confined in their own world between those maroon walls which she had memorized. She knew she would have photoshoots and she would need to think of excuses to leave, and her heart fluttered in fear of lying to him. So she mentally noted she would need to tell him the truth later that evening. Tell him of how she was secretly a seductress who had fallen into the sinful depths of the erotic-filled society of the day.

The cab ride was short and they stopped in front of her flat. Lara had gone on holiday to France with her parents. They hoped it would help her heal mentally and emotionally. Therefor, the flat was empty and quiet. Blank spaces where Charlie's pictures used to be and Hannibal noted this as he followed Lillian to her room. He leaned against the door frame and watched her as she packed a small suitcase. He smiled as he took in her spirit within the small room. Lots of records - she loved music. Nail polish on the dresser - he knew she took great care in herself, showing that despite her insecurities, she did truly love herself. He watched her move back and forth in the room as she put her nightgown in, followed by stockings, her garter belts, shirts, and some pants. She was closing the suitcase and she looked up at him watching her.

"What is it?" She smiled. He shook his head.

"I enjoy watching you."

She shifted shyly and picked up the suitcase.

"'I'm ready."

He held the door open for her and stood behind her as she locked it. Her shoes clicked loudly in the hallway and he found himself fascinated by her every move. He could feel his heart swell whenever she smiled at him. It was the familiar comfort, the need to protect, that he had felt with his aunt those years ago. He had loved Lady Murasaki in a way that was stronger than he could have imagined. The familiar feeling was coming back in a much different way. This time it was stronger.

He found love for Lillian. Love that he had thought he did not have. He had only loved Mischa and Lady Murasaki before now, and here was this dark angel coming to him. She did not want anything from him, nor did she share his same horrific past. No, she was new and she was fresh. Despite her dark secrets that he knew already, she was beautiful in her innocence. He found that he loved how perfectly real she was, never trying to lead anyone astray or make them think things were anything but. She was just Lillian, and that was where her beauty was.

He abhorred fake people who tried to be something they weren't. People that insisted on climbing the ladder towards something they would never be without truly putting forth any real effort to become better. He had worked hard and he had been through many hardships to become what he was. And yet, he still found himself to be a monster. They were both hiding something from the other. She was hiding her secret life as he was hiding his. Both held the fear of the others rejection.

The suite was different this time, but it was still that same comfort that she had surrounded herself with since he had left. He took her suitcase for her and carefully unpacked it as she busied herself with looking through a few recipe books he had left open on the table. They were all in French, which she herself could not read. She turned when she heard him turn on some bath water and smiled when he emerged from the bedroom.

"Just running some bathwater for you. I figured you would like one after...earlier."

He smiled boldy at her and she turned crimson. He smiled and once again turned into the suite's master bath as she followed. She caught the fragance of lavendar bath oils and studied him as he retrieved a soft, white robe for her. He walked to her and kissed her lips.

"I'll leave you be while I go find us some dinner."

She walked into the restroom and closed the door. She peeled off her dress and shoes and slowly slipped into the warm water, letting her muscles relax. The bath was enormous and she found herself feeling like she was more so in a small pool than a bath tub. She closed her eyes and breathed in the bath oils and let her mind wander. Before she knew it she heard a soft knock on the door and her eyes opened. She realized she had fallen asleep and quickly sat up, causing a splash.

"Dinner is here, m'lady." Hannibal said through the door. He smiled at the splash and knew she had fallen asleep. He knew she needed it, so he let her continue her half-hour nap until the food arrived. He had called room service and was pleased with the exquisite meal. He smiled as she emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in her robe, he skin pink from the warm bath. The meal was eaten in a comfortable silence and the empty plates were placed neatly back onto the cart and pushed into the hallway. Lillian rose from her seat and made her way towards the bedroom.

"Where are you going?" Hannibal questioned, insecurely. His posessiveness had seemed heightened by her agreement to stay with him in his room, yet he felt he had every right to be. She was his Lillian. She turned and smiled.

"To change."

He smiled and leaned back in his seat, looking out the window of the suite at the now dark sky. The first stars were just coming out and the moon was full, shining brightly at him. He heard a plane go by and he blinked back the flash of the airplane crashing in front of the cottage. And it was gone from his mind as fast as it had come. He was brought back by a hard knock on the door and his senses hightened.

He stood and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt as he made his way slowly to the door. Looking through the peep-hole he smiled sadistically at the familiar colors of a police uniform staring back at him.


	16. Chapter 16: We Have Time

**AN:** Hey everybody! Whoohoo! Here we go. I got these two here earlier than I thought I would. Hope you guys like them. I have a plan for this story and I definitely know where it's going and how it will end. But don't worry! I have another little story in the works. I feel this showed a sensitive side of Hannibal...now I want to show the dirty, white boy side! Heehee. Dirty white boy. ANYWAY! Yesh. Here we go!

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**Chapter 16: We Have Time**

**Warning: Somewhat graphic sex.**

With grace, Hannibal swung the door open, his head held high. Not in arrogance, but in pride. The investigators both looked at him and he sized them up. Both were fairly young, their chubby cheeks clean shaven and heads neatly cropped to house their hats. They nodded and smiled nervously as he eyed them.

"Excuse me, Dr. Lecter?" The shortest of the two had the nerve to speak first. No doubt, the level of the investigation was nerve-wracking, but the social status of the man they were questioning was making it even more difficult.

"Yes." Hannibal answered and stood. Not inviting them in, nor stepping outside to meet them. He had no desire to be dealing with this at the moment. He would much rather be in the suite, door locked, exploring his lover. But there they stood, eyes wide and mouths contorted in nervous expectation like wee babes at a Sunday mass.

"We, are...uh...investigating the murder of Charlie Shore. He was a student at University of London. We were told you had gotten in an argument with him at a local pub." The taller one added, seeing as though the shortest one was having a speech deficiency along with height.

"Ah, yes." Hannibal smiled. "He was...very rude to a certain lady. I merely stepped in and asked him to apologize. I never saw him again. He left in quite a hurry."

Both detectives looked at eachother, both wanting the other to finish the talking. Hannibal stood impatiently. He had to supress the urge to slam the door in their faces right then and there, but he was a gentleman. So therefore he stood and waited, but the impatience was evident on his face.

"Hannibal, who is it?" Lillian had heard him talking and called from the bedroom as she brushed her hair and put on her silk robe over her nightie. She thought nothing of it, assuming it was room service. Hannibal tilted his head to glance behind him, willing her to stay beyond the doors and to not come out. He knew if the detectives saw her it would be incriminating. To see the exlover of the now deceased Charlie would make him seem like a lovely and perfect suspect.

"I'll be but a second, darling." He responded. His head turned briskly back to the detectives who looked quite embarassed, thinking they had disturbed something of a naughty nature.

"Terribly sorry, doctor. If you think of anything, please, give the station a call." The short one hastily handed him a business card and Hannibal took it, smiling a sardonic smile at them as he waggled his fingers in a small wave.

"Tata."

He slammed the door in their blushing faces and bolted it in frustration. Who had told them of his encounter with Charlie? The only person who knew of it was Lillian. His mind did not want to comprehend that she could've told them. He looked up from tearing the business card into little pieces to see her standing there in her short, silk robe. Her legs were gloriously long despite her height. She smiled softly at his hard face.

"Come to bed." She said, quietly. He breathed deep and tossed the remnants of the card into the waste basket. He walked past her and into the bedroom and stood as she shut the double doors. "What's wrong?" She asked, her brow furrowing in concern.

"Did the police interrogate you concerning Charlie's murder?" Hannibal asked as he unbuttoned his shirt, tossing it onto a chair. Lillian sat on the bed and shrugged.

"Well, yes. They just asked if I knew anyone who would be angry with him. I told them no. I mean, plenty of people disliked him but not enough to kill him." She stopped short and looked at him, suspiciously. "Who told you he was murdered"  
Hannibal removed his shoes and his belt, stripping down to nothing and he stood there nude, his back to her. She fought back her blush and waited on his answer.

"Ah, the news reports. They've been playing stories on the murder since I arrived." Hannibal got under the covers and turned to his side, waiting on her to lay down with him. She looked at him and tilted her head, staying in her seated position.

"Why are you concerned?"

"Well, considering the words he and I exchanged, it wouldn't surprise me if I was a suspect." He reached for her as he said this and she finally joined him, rolling over to face him. His hand rested on her waist as he watched her mull over his statement.

"I doubt it." She smiled and quickly changed the subject. It was making her nervous. There was something there that she did not want to know. She didn't want to tell him, either, that she had seen him outside her window when she was changing. She had seen him walk with Charlie, as well. Her instincts told her what had happened, but her heart did not care. He pulled her to him and nuzzled her hair. Her thoughts wandered to his small speech in the closet.

"What did you mean when you said I took away the nightmares?" She asked.

His nuzzling stopped and she heard him take a shaky breath. She was afraid he wouldn't tell her, and she was right as he pulled away.

"I'll tell you in time." He smiled. "We have lots of time."

She nodded in quiet understanding and kissed him softly. He was right. They had time to learn about the other and to become as close as they wanted. There was no doubt in Hannibal's mind that, even though they did not know every crevice of eachother, that he did love Lillian. To love someone is knowing their spirit and not necessarily the facts of their being. He knew Lillian's spirit and she knew his. She loved the darkness of him, and the light that would show through on those glorious occasions. It was a light that only Lillian seemed to see.

His hands covered her body as he breathed in her scent. Far gone from his mind was the scent of Lady Murasaki. Far from his mind was the scent of burning airplane fuel and gunpowder. The only thing left was the feeling of her skin, of her mouth and her lips, and the feeling of her fingertips dancing across his flesh. He had never considered himself gentle. The days of being gentle had died with Mischa, but somehow along the way those days had been resurrected in spurts with Lillian.

He had never made love and he would admit to it fully. When he was with Lady Murasaki it had been hormone-raged fumblings and lessons. What he had with Lillian was no lesson, but a gift. He had always heard tales from college boys of what the girls called 'making love'. That it was a spiritual experience between two souls, where the mind connected with the body and two people actually became one. He never found himself interested and always assumed the girls foolish, thinking that these college boys would comprehend 'making love'.

But here he was, looking up at Lillian straddling his thin body in all her feminine glory, and he found himself wanting to know.


	17. Chapter 17: Lessons

**Author's Note:** Sorry this one is so short. I figured it got the point across, though.

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**Chapter 17: Lessons**

The feeling was glorious as he arched upward as she allowed him entrance. Her body danced wantonly as she rode him slowly and he could not take his eyes off of her. His hand reached up to grasp her breast, and then brush softly across her shoulder. He allowed her to do what she wished, as he became totally absorbed with her rhythm. Watching her was hypnotizing. Her eyes closed, head tilted back, mouth parted as she gasped for breath.

He pulled her down towards him and she stopped all movement as he kissed her softly, slowly. His lips were soft and wet, and she found her rhythm again as they continued to kiss. He softly flipped her onto her back and held onto her small frame for dear life. He pulled back to watch her face and was happy to find her shyness had evaporated and her she was, staring back at him.

For the first time in his life, Hannibal was making love.

Their slick, sweaty bodies moved together slowly. Neither wanting any more or any less, for fear of breaking the devine connection they had made. Of the two times they had been together, Lillian had never heard him be as vocal as he was now. He was at her mercy for the first time and she found his moaning to be the most sensual thing she had ever heard. She held onto him tightly as he pushed into her and she felt him begin to shake. He looked at her again, his eyes shining brightly.

"I love you." He whispered. The revelation was glorious. He did not care if she said it back, for knowing he could feel this way was more than enough for him. But her reply was what he craved.

"I love you too." She smiled in happiness and pleasure. Her senses heightened with every grand entrance he made into her.

Ever moan and growl more glorious than the first. He ran his hands over her, memorizing every line and every curve. He grasped her hands and held them down onto the bed, her submission to him evident.

"Come with me to America." He murmered, not missing a thrust. She smiled.

"Yes." She replied. He smiled and leaned down to capture her mouth in a passionate kiss.

He could feel himself beginning his climax and as his vocalizations became louder, he felt her arch against him in her own.

"Show me how much you love me." She whispered, her lips grazing his ear. He growled loudly and bit her neck. She had never said much during sex, minus the replies to questions or commands. This was new and he liked it, and he knew what she wanted.

"Show me, Hannibal." She commanded, softly in a moan.

He watched her, as with a growl he filled her. Her orgasm ripping through her as their eyes watched the other intently. He had the feeling of falling and of floating, his light head giving way to an even more intense climax than he had ever experienced. Her body accepted him in such a way that was beautiful and carnal. Hannibal knew more than anything, that she was truly his.

Lillian knew that Hannibal would forever be her protector, her lover, and her master.

However, neither of them knew of the life that they had created that night.


	18. Chapter 18: The Gunshot

**Author's Note:** Here you are, dearies! Another cliffhanger! Thanks Smithsbabe for the glorious reviews. Much love to you, and I'm thoroughly enjoying 'Ravenous'!!! Bugs Are Eating My Face, love your stories and your reviews always make me smile!

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**Chapter 18: The Gunshot**

Knocking.

Yes, that's what it was. It was a hard knocking on the door of the suite. Lillian turned over groggily to look at the clock on the nightstand. It was two o'clock in the morning. She rubbed her eyes and rolled to her other side to see an empty bed where Hannibal had been.

The knocking continued and she quickly sat up and made her way to her robe, slipping it over her nude form, and then towards the door. She peeked through the peep hole and saw two police officers. Her brow furrowed. What could they want at this unGodly hour? She sighed and began unbolting the door, only for her wrist to be grabbed by Hannibal. She looked up at him and saw his face, hard set in a frown.

"What do they want?" She whispered. He shook his head.

"They know what you know. I knew it would only take them a matter of time." He knew that she knew he had killed Charlie. The way she reacted, the things she said all gave it away. She noted he was once again fully dressed. A gloved hand stroked her cheek as he kissed her softly.

"Please, darling. You don't need to see this. Pack your things quickly." He kissed her again as she nodded and scurried back off into the bedroom. The blade in Hannibal's hand glistened as he opened the door again to the same two detectives from earlier.

"Yes, gentleman?"

The nervous anxiety they had posessed earlier was still there. Yet, this time, they were feuled by determination and the revelation the station had come to after interviewing the taxi driver. Hannibal smiled a sarcastic smile at them and opened the door wider.

"Please, come in." He invited them in with a wave of his free hand. Both officers stepped in, hands on their guns in readiness. Observing their surroundings as they stepped in, they jumped when Hannibal shut the door. Their nervousness only excited the young Hannibal and brought out a predatory side that only a select few had seen, and those select few were not alive to tell of it.

"Dr. Lecter, we've come to take you in. You're under arrest for-" Hannibal interrupted the smaller one.

"Please, don't bypass formalities. They were placed for a reason and we should respect that. However, I'm afraid I've had a change of plans. The missus and I were on our way out of the country. So this will have to wait." He said it in good humor as he twirled the knife around in his leather-clad palm. His humor faded as the shorter officer pulled his gun, pointing it at him. The taller one was busy observing the suite and Hannibal snarled at the undesirable situation.

"Ah. Guns are so...impersonal. Don't you think?"

Hannibal lunged at the detective, knife drawn and poised at the the young detectives jugular. He wrestled him to the ground, the gun going off in the exchange and hitting a painting on the wall. Hannibal blocked out the yelling as he sliced the man's throat, glancing up from his task to see the taller one holding back vomit as he watched his partner's throat being sliced. Hannibal smiled his way, eyes wide in an almost posessed expression. The pleasure from cutting this man's throat was almost as wonderful as having sex with Lillian, he pondered. The taller one fumbled with the gun as he slowly pulled it out of its holster, hands shaking like a nervous teen in the backseat of a car.

Lillian's head shot up from her packing as she heard the gunshot. Panic swept through her body like liquid heat as it gripped her heart in fear. They had shot Hannibal in cold blood, atleast that's what her fearful mind was thinking. She panicked and quickly threw the suitcase to the floor and ran out the bedroom. Tears running down her terrified face.

"Hannibal!!" She screamed. Flashbacks, memories. Mischa. Running. Screaming. Snap out of it, Hannibal. Not now, not now.

"Lillian! NO!" Hannibal jumped up from his crouching position over the dying officer. "STAY BACK!" He screamed.

Slow motion set in and time came to a screeching halt. His heart stopped with the second gunshot.


	19. Chapter 19: Time Is Up

**Author's Note:** We've come to the end of our journey. DON'T HIT ME! But I am working on another story currently, which will be up in the next couple of days, if not tonight if I get hit with some sudden inspiration. I might just have to watch the movie again, and get me some new characterizations. Fun times, fun times. So look for the new story!!!

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**Chapter 19: Time Is Up**

Pain. Searing pain was all Lillian felt right through her gut. She hadn't even heard the gunshot before she felt the heat surge right through her. Her hand automatically went towards the source of the pain and pressed down. She felt the sticky substance of blood, and her brain did not comprehend that it was her own. She looked from the taller officer, the smoke from his gun rising, as it was poised pointed at her. His face was one of horrified realization, and she then looked towards the unharmed Hannibal as he ran towards the officer, the knife coming around behind him and stabbing him through the throat.

His body crumpled to the floor, that same horrified expression plastered on his face. Hannibal looked from the body to Lillian, who still stood, hand holding the gunshot wound that he knew went right through her vital organs. His face was covered with sweat from the struggle and for the first time in years, tears came. The knife fell from his fingers as he watched Lillian begin to collapse.

He quickly caught her and fell to the floor with her. He cradled her in his arms and screamed an agonizing scream. She would be ripped from his grasp, just as Mischa had been. Just as his whole family had been. He felt sick. The bile was rising, but the tears and the painful moans kept it down. He looked down at her pale face as she breathed ragged breaths. Her body fighting back the pain it felt. The blood loss was making her head spin.

She reached up with a bloody hand and grabbed Hannibal's face. She smiled, softly at him. Realization finally hit her that she had been shot, fatally, and she would die there in the suite in Hannibal's arms. Hannibal watched a tear fall down her cheek, and he rocked back and forth, somehow trying to comfort the both of them in that one, simple motion.

"You said we'd have time." She smiled, irony pulling at her heart. He shook his head.

"We do. We have lots of time." Hannibal supressed the doctor in him, and accepted denial as an out. Yes, he had told her they would have lots of time. But now their time was up, and he was awash with feelings of failure. He had failed Mischa, and now he had failed Lillian. Unable to protect either innocent being from pain and misery. He had failed them.

"No, Hannibal." Lillian softly shook her head. The movement hurt her and she grimaced. The taste of blood filled her mouth and she winced at the metallic taste.

"I love you. You're going to make it. I love you. You can't leave me. No, you can't fucking leave me." Hannibal cried and shook, gripping Lillian closer to him.

"I love you." She said, weakly. Her eyes became heavy and all she wanted to do was sleep. She wanted to sleep for a long time and wake up and see his face again. Yes, she would sleep for a while and then she would wake up and they would leave the country. They would go some place where no one knew he was a killer, and they would be happy. She closed her eyes as she felt his warm lips cover hers and she smiled against them.

Hannibal pulled away from her lips as he accepted her last breath into his mouth. His sobs grew and grew until he let out a final agonizing scream. He cried into her red hair until he could cry no more. He faintly heard the sirens in the distance. They were still a good bit away and he knew the ruckus had caused the hotel patrons to panic. He gently set her lifeless body down and he stood, grabbing his knife again.

He crouched over the now dead taller officer and screamed into his lifeless face. Ripping the officer's shirt open he violently ripped and slashed into his skin, blood flying and splattering on every hard service that it hit. He continued his outburst until his energy had drained and the officer's face was mutilated. Hannibal stood, blood covering his face and he spit into the wounds on the body.

He turned and carrying Lillian's body and his suitcase, he quietly made his exit out the back door of the hotel.


	20. Chapter 20: Next To Mischa

**Chapter 20: Next to Mischa**

The car sped down the bumpy road towards the woods. Hannibal surveyed the trees as they displayed their coats of brightly colored leaves that had come out for the summer. He smelled the sweet aroma of the flowers and smiled as he passed a family of deer.

The car stopped in front of the clearing and he slowly rose from the driver's side of the car. His long black coat swished with his movements as he opened the trunk, pulling a shovel out. He whistled as he walked deeper into the woods, down the hill, his eyes suspicious.

Lithuania did not hold all good memories, but it held memories none the less. They were memories that were his, so therefore he embraced them. He stood next to the place he knew all too well, and he smiled at the beautiful bloom of daises. His fingers caressed the petals as he stooped down to study them. He smiled and stood again, and walking slightly a way from them, he began to dig.

It was a bigger hole this time, approximately six by six by four. Atleast, that's what he estimated. It took him about an hour and when he was finished he grabbed the shovel once more and walked briskly back to his parked car. Opening the trunk again, he lifted the black body bag out and lay it on the ground. He unzipped it and marvelled at his excellent job of preservation.

She looked the same as she did when she passed away. He smiled as he lifted her gently from the bag and carried her to the grave. He climbed down first and then brought her down with him. He lay her down gently, kissing her forehead and then her lips softly before climbing back out and beginning the painful process of covering her with the soft soil. With each shovel full of dirt he covered her with, his heart hardened and he once again covered his emotions.

When her grave was finished, he planted the lillies he had bought at the local market, right above her head. He stepped back and looked over his work.

The tears would not come. He feared he was out of tears and that he would never cry again. Atleast, not like he had before. His last chance at loving someone had been diminished and he found himself packing and shovelling all kinds of emotions to the back of his heart and mind.

Lillian had been more to him than anyone had been in a long time, and she had done it in such a short amount of time. He could only imagine what would have become of them if she had lived longer. Her memory lived in him and the obsession with her still remained. He had blamed everyone for her untimely death, including himself. But he had started with the police officer and then he had killed Lara after she got back from holiday. If she hadn't had said anything to the officers of his altercation with Charlie, then none of this would have escalated.

So many people to blame and plenty of time to make them pay for it. Atleast, that's how he saw it.

Lillian had made him love again. She had made his heart skip beats and beat faster than he even thought was possible. She was his savior and his downfall; his obsession and his love. She had made him feel whole, if not for a few moments in time. What precious moments they had been. She would forever haunt him. His nightmares had returned, but this time they were new nightmares. He had new flashbacks partnered with the old, and he found himself sleeping less and less.

Here he was, now a man. Standing in front of the grave of his lost lover.

He had buried her next to Mischa, and she would forever be there. She would forever be kept next to Mischa in the physical realm and in his heart. They were both his.

His.


End file.
